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On this second full day of silence, something snaps. I thought I came here because: I had vacation time to kill, I wanted to give myself a gift, it had been a long time since I’d been to a silent retreat in Taos with Natalie Goldberg. Today I am reminded that this is not play. When I go into silence, pain emerges. I wake up.

A quick step out of silence to give you an update, QM. I am also reminded that I met you here, that our friendship was created in silence and through the humanity and compassion we find when we come here. I am grateful for you, for all the friends I have met through Taos, and for everything I have learned about myself through coming here.

I am not writing much since arriving. In fact, I have only thus far written in the zendo during collective Writing Practice. Outside of class, I have spent my free time in The Gatehouse, where I’m staying. I’ve read, slept, and worked on collages. After I publish this post, I might venture out for a walk. I crave the cold air in my lungs.

ybonesy, so good to hear from you. I love the haiku. It speaks to the silence. And the photo through the Gatehouse window — beautiful. I know that view; I stayed in the Gatehouse last time I was there. I keep thinking about you walking across the flagstones that your father helped to place when he was younger. (I think it was your father you wrote about on red Ravine who worked for a Summer at Mabel Dodge.) You sound so peaceful, ybonesy. What a reprieve. I can feel you all sitting this week. Seriously. I feel more peaceful just knowing you are there. I am so glad we met there in the silence. I carry it all with me.

I too, have been investigating my relationship to silence. I’ve been thinking of it as this symbol of possibility and mostly romantizing the beauty of silence and yet as Rilke says, when we let everything happen to us there is “beauty and terror”…the opposites are part of this inherent possibility. I was also reflecting this morning on the strangeness of being a modern human being…how we have come to a place in history where we pay money for silence.

I’ll end with my new favorite Bob Dylan quote: “Experience teaches us that silence terrifies people the most.”

I didn’t read these three comments until I returned from Taos. I took a near total technology black-out, logging on only to do my post. I’ve been coming back to the computer slowly.

Teresa, both of those quotes helps explain what happened to me this past week. So I wasn’t losing my mind after all!

QM, I do believe that you could feel us sitting. You are deep and transcendent that way. I felt connected to you as well. I loved the Gatehouse. I got the small bedroom but liked it immensely. Austere, but with a wonderful sitting room that got light in the morning and all afternoon. That’s where I sat and worked on my collages.

Sharon, bless your heart and thank you. Maybe it is the nature of the Intensives, but I feel protective of our little group. I was so happy that three others from the group were also at this workshop. I do have to say, though, that the 15 or 16 other people who participated in this December retreat had a collective energy that was most gentle and sweet. I guess every group has its dynamic and energy. All good, all good.

ybonesy, welcome back. I think it’s hard to ease back into electronic routines after a silent retreat. Well, any routines. Stays with you for a long time. I appreciate your comment. I felt connected to the space that you all were holding in Taos. It moves out in waves. The Gatehouse is a pretty cool space. I remember that sitting room with the big window. What a great place to work on art. There is another sitting room on the back side that is much darker and doesn’t have the same feel at all. I stayed in the larger room and at the end of the retreat the person in the other room left to go home. I stayed on a couple of days. Could swear I felt a presence there. It was a much different experience having the whole Gatehouse alone for the last few nights. Sounds like you had a great group of people. Those December retreats can be really sweet.

QM, I felt a presence my first night there, and I was so glad that a retreatant was sharing the house with me. I would not have done well alone in the house. I did spend a bit of time in the one darker common room, lying on my back (that day bed/sofa was nice and firm) and reading Colette. But that was the only time I felt like using it. Just too dark. One of the things that strikes me is how so many of us have done multiple retreats with Natalie Goldberg such that we all seem to two or three degrees connected (as opposed to six). Natalie has affected us all profoundly.

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